


Pretty Boy

by salineshots



Series: Antidote Stuff [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance, Keith gets feisty, Keith still has some unhealthy emotions, Lance eats pussy yall, M/M, Mating Bites, but they love each other - Freeform, jealous and insecure keith, needs to please, you cannot pry my italics away from me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 04:21:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18175781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salineshots/pseuds/salineshots
Summary: This is for the nsfw exchange! We did whatever we felt like, so I finished a deleted scene from my fic Antidote. This would've been after Keith and Lance's first time together, like, the next day, but that turned into actual plot in the fic.





	Pretty Boy

“Are you tired, baby?” Lance asked once they shut themselves in their suite. Keith knew that he was doing his best to take care of him, but he didn’t want to be taken care of. He tried to meet him halfway.

“Maybe,” was as much as he could admit. When Lance wrapped his arms around him from behind, Keith leaned back into his chest.

“Do you wanna go to sleep?” Lance’s voice was soft in his ear. One hand moved down Keith’s chest, down to his stomach, back up to his ribs. Keith _was_ tired, but he knew he wouldn't rest well as he was, and Lance's hand picked up just enough of his interest. He smiled and let Lance do whatever he wanted.

“I don't think so,” Keith replied. “And I get the feeling you have something in mind.”

Lance hummed and kissed the back of Keith's neck. The simple warm contact there made Keith stand up on his toes and bite his lip.

“I think I do,” Lance said, as if he was just realizing it. “Can I do something nice for you, baby?”

Keith laughed under his breath. He turned around in Lance's hold, and he tilted their faces together so he could kiss him properly, slowly, still measuring the motions to ensure that he got them right. Lance was taking that as encouragement, already reaching for the hem of Keith's shirt, so Keith dropped his hands to Lance's waist to interrupt his efforts and catch his attention.

“You're always doing nice things for me,” Keith whispered back. “How about I return the favor?”

“Good idea,” Lance murmured in a voice that had no business falling that low. Keith could feel it rumbling through Lance's chest against his own. “You know what would be so nice of you?”

“What?” Keith wondered if everyone who fell in love felt this way, hopeful and willing at the first chance to make his mate feel good. He waited and let Lance play with his shirt and the button of his pants.

“If you let me suck your cock,” Lance whispered.

Lance could have asked Keith for anything at all, and he picked that. Keith knew how unsteady he must have looked, how clearly inexperienced he must have seemed to Lance, but it took him a moment to gather his words off of the floor of his composure.

“And--and that’s _me_ doing something nice for _you_?” Keith had to check breathlessly. When Lance’s hands slipped under Keith’s shirt and pulled it up, Keith moved with him and raised his arms, happy to let his clothes fall off of him and scatter on the floor. Lance's joined them in moments.

“You bet.” Lance smiled and gripped Keith’s naked waist, and he walked him backwards until Keith’s back hit the wall. Keith had never realized how fun it could be to just go pliant and trusting, but there was Lance, leading him and teasing him while Keith felt entirely safe in his hands. “With a cock like yours?” Lance asked, voice soft and lips brushing against Keith’s, hinting at a kiss. “I’d beg you for it.”

That was too much of an image. Keith groaned and leaned closer, but as soon as his shoulders left the wall behind him and his lips found a little more of the surface of Lance’s, Lance pushed him back and kissed Keith’s neck instead.

“You don’t have to beg,” Keith said weakly.

“You don’t wanna hear me beg?” Lance asked under his ear. His hands pressed down against Keith’s hips, adding pressure on the nerves of his waist with his thumbs. Keith gasped and gripped his shoulders, just shy of bruising.

He didn’t want Lance to ask him for it coyly. He didn’t want the sultry, “won’t you?” while Lance was still in control of himself.

He wanted to _make_ him beg. Keith wanted to earn it. He wanted Lance falling apart around his fingers and crying. He wanted him to barely get the words out. He wanted Lance to pray for the _more_ that only Keith could give him.

“I didn’t say that,” Keith whispered. That bought him a smirk from Lance, bitten lip and coy eyes.

“Please, Keith?” Lance breathed. “Please fuck my mouth? Didn’t get to taste your come last time.” That begging was pretty nice too, come to think of it.

“Fuck, Lance, you have a mouth on you.” Keith choked.

“Well, I want it on _you_.”

Lance knelt down. He held Keith back against the wall, and then he was on his knees, kissing Keith’s hips and stomach. Keith knew his hands were unsteady, but they ran through Lance’s hair all the same. This was nice, but it felt too distant. Keith wanted to touch Lance more. He wanted to make _Lance_ feel good. He needed to earn this love.

“Relax, baby,” Lance whispered, and Keith had to watch him brush his lips down the line of hair leading down to his hips. “Relax. I’ve got this. Wanna do this for you.”

Keith blinked down at him. Lance could always tell.

He gave in and stroked Lance’s cheek.

“I’m doing you next,” Keith promised.

“Don’t worry about that.” Lance didn’t touch him with his hands first. Keith was already hard, perhaps a little too eager, and Lance met him with his tongue. Little licks. Tiny kisses. His mouth looked too fine for the job, even as it made Keith whimper, strangled little sounds in the back of his throat. The back of his head hit the wall, and his fingers clenched in Lance’s hair.

“Are you gonna come just like this?” Lance teased lowly, and Keith shook his head. He wasn’t anywhere near _close_ , but fuck, it felt nice.

“Just love your mouth,” Keith whispered back.

Lance chuckled, and Keith felt the warm, wet stripe of his tongue, a blessing he never could have asked Lance to give him. He would take what he was given, but god, he would take it. Lance moved up from his base, all the way to his tip, then wet the rim of his cockhead. Lance tested his lips around it, teasing and not taking him in yet.

Keith felt the barest edge of teeth. His hips jumped, and Lance pulled his mouth back.

“Stay still, baby,” he murmured. “Won’t hurt you.”

“Felt good,” Keith sighed out instead, and Lance laughed.

“I know, sweetheart.” Lance leaned back in, flattened his tongue under Keith’s cock, and pushed him into his mouth.

Keith groaned, way too loud, and his back arched off the wall. Lance gripped him by the base and hip, dragged him further in, swallowed him whole, and Keith had to worry that there was _no_ way that felt good for Lance. God, fuck, he was in his _throat_. Lance’s muscles were tight around him, so goddamn tight and wet, and both of them had to take a second to adjust.

“Fuck, fuck, oh my god, Lance,” Keith rushed out. Lance clung to his hips, dragged himself back, and then leaned in again. It knocked the breath out of Keith.

“Where’d you learn to suck cock?” Keith asked, already sounding wrecked. Lance pulled back, entirely off of Keith’s cock, and Keith glanced down to see the crooked, easy smile on his face.

“Had to practice for you,” Lance crooned, giving Keith’s cock another firm stroke. “You’re fucking _hung_.”

“We’re like the same size,” Keith defended weakly, but Lance’s praise had his cheeks flushing even worse than before. He had to be exaggerating, but it was still nice to hear. Lance seemed impressed with him. He knew it was petty, but he didn’t like the idea of Lance doing this for anyone else. Lance on his knees in front of someone else, saying these same things to them. He didn’t know why he had to ask, because it didn’t matter. “Did you only practice on cock?”

He watched, spellbound, as Lance licked his bottom lip with a peek of his pretty, pink tongue. He didn’t even answer. He just smiled. Then he dove back in, sliding Keith’s entire length into his mouth, and Keith found himself way too enamored with the mental image of Lance eating pussy. He just _knew_ that was a special talent of his. He could picture in beautiful clarity the smooth focus on Lance's face, hear the purr in his throat while his tongue might acquaint itself with someone's clit.

How could he be jealous? Lance was good at this, and he was giving it to _Keith_.

Keith let his head fall back. He let himself moan out loud, and his voice broke when Lance pulled back far enough to thrust over him. When Lance pulled off of him again, it was only briefly enough for him to murmur, “C’mon, fuck my face, baby.”

Keith didn’t want to hurt him. His fingers loosened in Lance’s hair, but Lance reached back and pressed Keith’s hand closer against his head. Keith let out a long, shaky breath, gazed down at Lance and his stretched, pink lips, and leaned his hips forward not even an inch.

Lance gazed up at him with glazed eyes. He leaned in closer, inviting, so Keith did it again. He only made the smallest motions, a gentle back-and-forth, and let Lance cling to his hip and drag him farther in. Gradually, Keith tested the limits and gave Lance a little more on each thrust, and Lance made a strange, satisfied noise deep in his throat.

Keith’s hips were beginning to move on their own, and his head was beginning to feel light. He wanted more, wanted to chase it, but he refused to be too rough with Lance’s pretty face. Rather than give Lance too much by accident, Keith grit his teeth and pulled back. At his feet, Lance groaned and actually sounded annoyed.

“Keith, baby…” Keith had flattened himself back against the wall, so Lance followed him there, gripped him by the cock, and pressed an utterly sloppy kiss to his base.

“I know you’re close,” Lance murmured roughly. He pumped Keith in his hand, and when he curled his tongue under Keith’s sack and sucked on him, Keith yelped and scraped his nails over Lance’s scalp. Lance purred so fucking palpably, right over his too-sensitive skin, and Keith’s knees threatened to buckle.

“Lance…” Keith hiccupped, tried to strangle the noises in his throat, and tugged at the threads of Lance’s hair. He couldn’t say it, but Lance knew what he needed. When Keith’s hips jumped, movements jerkier than before, Lance brought his mouth back up. He nuzzled Keith’s cock like a favorite toy. He cast those eyes up at him. He opened his mouth, showed him his tongue, pumped Keith’s cock to drag his foreskin back and forth over his tip. Then he pushed his mouth back onto Keith. If Keith wasn’t going to go as hard as he wanted, Lance would do the job for him.

It only took moments more. Lance squeezed and jerked the base of Keith’s cock while his mouth bobbed over the rest, and Keith snapped like a wire. Finally, fucking _finally_ , he clenched his hands in Lance’s hair and dragged his head further onto his cock. He couldn’t help it--couldn’t help how _good_ it felt--to give Lance’s mouth a short thrust, then to come inside something hot and wet and welcoming.

He let go of Lance’s hair before he was done, as soon as the sparks started to clear from his vision. Lance pulled back and coughed, and Keith was hazily aware that the rest of his finish found Lance’s face.

Lance ruled the world from his knees. He gazed up at Keith through his lashes with come on his lips and cheek, and he still leaned in to finish sucking Keith clean. Keith gasped and his hips jumped, and he tugged Lance’s head back one more time.

“Bed.” Keith’s voice boiled up right from his chest, so deep that it startled him. “Get on the bed.”

“Bossy,” Lance remarked, and the moment Keith let go of him, Lance turned his face and licked at his wrist. “I like it.”

“ _Now_ , Lance,” Keith growled, since Lance liked bossy so much. Apparently he _did_ , because he heard a tiny gasp from the mouth at his hand.

“Yes, sir.” Lance was still purring, sounding so smug and self-assured. He stood and walked backward, and when his knees hit the bed, he let himself fall back on it, lounging on those plush white covers. He let his arms hang above his head, splayed over the blankets to display his long, lean body, and he watched Keith as he followed him and began to crawl over him. “How do you want me, gorgeous?”

“I can have you however I want?” Keith asked.

“However you want,” Lance agreed. His thigh drew upward, and the inside of his knee brushed along Keith’s hip. “Play with me.”

“Fuck,” Keith breathed. Lance was giving him too many options, and Keith wasn’t short on ideas. They were all hitting him at once, images of every way he wanted to break Lance down.

But he knew how he had to start.

“Keep your hands like that,” Keith instructed him, and he hoped his shaky voice didn’t weaken the order. Lance didn’t seem to think so; his fingers curled in the sheets to show they would stay in place. “Good. Just like that. And… Tell me if I’m doing something wrong, okay?”

“You’ll have to get started and _do_ it,” Lance crowed back to him, and Keith licked his lips. “Don’t second guess yourself, Keith. I trust you.”

That didn’t reassure him. Keith had to earn that trust, and Lance could revoke it at any time. But he couldn’t worry too much about it when Lance was spread out for him, waiting for him and any of his whims.

“Keep your hands there,” Keith repeated, falling quiet. He settled down between Lance’s legs, sitting comfortably, and ran his hand down Lance’s chest. “You’re not allowed to touch me. You’ve been doing all the touching so far.”

Lance chuckled low enough to make Keith’s heart jump.

“It’s your turn now, huh?” Lance asked him, and Keith swallowed. This was the best kind of nervousness.

“Yeah,” he whispered. His fingers trailed down the definition of Lance’s stomach, tracing over his belly button, and then took a turn to his waist. He stroked him there, then dropped his other hand to mirror it, dragging lower to Lance’s hips and thighs. There was so much of him to touch. “It’s my turn.”

His eyes flicked up to Lance’s face, and he caught him biting his lip. Caught his chest rising and falling a little deeper than before. Below that, it was impossible to miss just how hard Lance was, cock resting across his lower belly with beads of precome at his tip. Keith followed the initiative he had taken, and he barely touched his finger to the slit of Lance’s cockhead.

“Does sucking my dick turn you on?” he asked so calmly that he appalled himself. His fingertip smeared that wetness against Lance’s smooth, reddened skin, and the sound Lance made for him then, strained and helpless, was earth-shattering.

“Yeah,” Lance whispered. “Fuck, I love your dick.”

“What do you love about it?” Keith prompted him, sounding far more patient and steady than he was, and enjoying every moment. Fighting down the pain of being parted from him, he left Lance by himself for a moment, and he stood and walked to the nightstand to pull the lube out of the drawer. He made eye contact with Lance then, watched those blue eyes widen with excitement, and smirked when Lance spread his knees even wider.

“It’s huge,” Lance answered, obedient, breath fluttery. “Love that you’re uncut. It _looks_ good. Such a nice cock.”

“Yeah? You look like you want it in you.” Keith glanced at Lance’s shamelessly spread legs, and he returned to his spot between them, leaning against one of Lance’s thighs for the salvation of contact. Lance really was open to him, eager, so willing and trusting that Keith didn’t know what to do with him. The boy obviously needed help.

“God, yes,” Lance groaned. “Keith, please, fuck me.”

“You sure?” Keith loved the encouragement, but he had to tease Lance a little. And maybe he was double checking. “You don’t want me to… I don’t know… ride you?”

That thought looked appealing to Lance, too, to the point of pain at the prospect of making a decision. Lance stared up at Keith helplessly.

“Later,” Lance had to whisper. “God, fuck, you’re so hot.”

Keith hummed. He opened the bottle, dripped the contents onto his fingers, and smoothed the substance out and let it catch his body heat. “Maybe I’ll just fuck myself in front of you.”

Lance’s fists gripped the sheets tighter. Tugged sharply at them.

“Does that sound good?” Keith asked Lance as sweetly as he knew how. “I can stay right here and let you watch.”

“But I want you,” Lance whispered.

Keith grinned. Pulling reactions out of Lance was too much fun.

“I thought you said _however I want_ ,” Keith reminded him.

“Because I thought you wanted to fuck me,” Lance whined, and Keith _laughed_.

“Say what you mean, baby.” Keith leaned down, kissed Lance’s chest, and moved his hand down between Lance’s legs. He tested him gently, only running his fingertips between Lance’s thighs and tracing his hole, but it was enough to make Lance squirm.

“Okay.” Lance licked his lip again, made sure he had Keith’s attention, and said, “I’ve been using toys for _years,_ thinking about you fucking me. Don’t make me wait anymore.”

“Years?” Keith asked, a rush of disbelieving breath. He pressed a little harder against Lance’s entrance. Slipped just the point of his finger inside. “So, all that bluster at the Garrison…?”

“Keith, you _know_ I liked you,” Lance choked.

“So, whenever you got cranky at me,” Keith said, “you’d just go back to your room and fuck yourself, thinking about me?”

“Only sometimes.”

As if that made it any less incriminating. Keith laughed and gave him more of his finger. With a level of care that approached agonizing, Keith slipped deeper into him. Lance took him easily.

He was reaching inside Lance. He was opening him up. Keith had this privilege, this honor, of being welcomed inside Lance’s body. He sat up properly to look, staring in utter fascination as he slipped out and back into him all the way to the knuckle.

“I can take more,” Lance urged him on. Keith glanced up to his face and back down, and he carefully added another finger. He tried to recall everything Lance had done for him the day before, how gentle and patient he had been. Lance hadn’t let anything hurt him. So he moved slowly, taking note of the tensile stretch around his fingers. When Lance felt ready and relaxed, Keith worked his fingers apart, adding just a little more stress at a time. That made Lance groan, deep and pleasant, and move his hips downward in a request for even more.

So Keith found his confidence. He was doing well--well enough to put that blissful look on Lance’s handsome face, at least. He arched his fingers, rocked into him with his wrist, and let Lance’s breath catch when he started to fuck him.

“Fuck, yes, that’s it.” Lance’s brows furrowed, and his body arched, moving fluidly to meet him.

Keith had to give him more.

His fingers curled. He worried that he wouldn’t be able to find it quickly, that he would just make a fool of himself, but then Lance got _loud_.

“Oh-- _fuck_.”

Keith had to angle his fingers pretty tightly, and he pressed _upward_ to find it, but then Lance was groaning and digging his heels into the sheets.

“Is that nice, baby?” Keith asked him, sounding smug even as he sincerely checked in.

“Yes, Keith, fuck, you’re good with your hands,” Lance answered between heavy breaths. He looked like he needed more, like he was on the cusp of desperation, so Keith brought his free hand up to Lance’s cock.

Lance was such a beauty. The muscles of his chest were dotted in sweat, and there was a small streak of white on his pectoral--a drop of Keith from earlier. His shoulders were broad, and Keith’s eyes followed the shape of his body, down his toned stomach, his smooth waist, to the angle of his hips. He drank in the way Lance’s cock flushed under his hand, the way his abdomen twitched when Keith stroked him, the way his fucking _voice_ rose and caught when Keith gripped him.

He owned these reactions. Lance wouldn’t have arched up on the bed like that if Keith hadn’t rocked his fingers into him that hard. If Keith wanted Lance to whine his name for him, he found ways to coax it out of him, like curling those fingers upward and giving his cock a nice, hard pump. He felt Lance twitch, clench, arch around him, watched Lance dig his nails into Keith’s forearms, and listened to him keen.

“ _Fuck, Keith, please_.” Three sharply emphasized words. “Please, fuck, fuck me, I’m ready.”

Lance was fascinatingly beautiful.

“Not yet,” Keith decided, keeping his voice gentle over the flares of excitement in his belly. “Look at me, Lance.”

He waited until Lance was ready. Those perfect blue eyes blinked up at him, starving and begging. Keith pulled his fingers out of him and listened to Lance gasp, and then he smiled down at him.

He pushed three fingers back in.

Lance sounded ready to cry. Keith wished he would. Those choppy little whines were wonderful, but Lance was on the edge of unsatisfied sobbing, and Keith wanted to see how far he could push him.

“Keith, please, want your cock, please fuck me, wanna come with you inside me.”

This was real begging. Lance was strung so tight, ready to snap, and Keith had to push him just a little more. It was too beautiful.

“Does it feel good?” Keith asked, low and patient.

“Yeah, feels good, feels _too_ good. Wanna-- Keith, please.”

“You like me stretching you open?” Keith purred, because Lance _did_ like it. He could feel it--Lance’s pleasure radiating off of him, thrumming in Keith’s bloodstream. Lance was on the breaking point. He couldn’t take much more, and playing with him was fun.

“Yeah, Keith, fuck. You’re so good. So sweet,” Lance choked. Keith rocked his hand against him, driving his fingers into him, and watched how it made Lance’s body open up and stretch around him. “Want your cock, _please_ , baby, I’ll do anything you want.”

“I wanna see you take four,” Keith whispered.

Lance took four so well. Keith gathered his fingers together and buried them into him to the last knuckle, and he watched and felt Lance’s thighs quivering uncontrollably. Lance wasn’t even looking at him anymore, head thrown back and lashes thick with tears, and when he redoubled his efforts to rock his hips down on Keith’s hand, Keith let him.

“Keith, Keith, keithkeithkeithpleasekeith.” The words slipped out of Lance without any proper voice behind them. His throat rasped and tightened. His spine bowed. He whimpered, thrust his hips down, reached for Keith’s arms desperately.

Keith pulled his fingers out.

Lance _cried_. Big, fat, wonderful tears.

“Keith.” Lance sobbed and dragged his weak fingers over Keith’s forearms. “Please, gimme, want it.”

“Shhh.” Keith smiled and leaned down to him, crawling over him, letting Lance touch his chest and reach for his cock. “Shhh, baby, I’m just returning the favor. Remember? You drove me _crazy_.”

“I’m sorry,” Lance whined. “I’m sorry, honey, please just fuck me. I wanna come. I want--”

Keith cut him off with a kiss. Lance melted under him, dragged his arms up to circle around Keith’s chest, and kissed him as sweetly as he could, as if that would earn him what he was asking.

Keith arched his hips forward. He pressed between Lance’s thighs, reached down and felt gently between them. When his cockhead pressed against Lance’s stretched, warm opening, Lance sighed and wrapped his legs high around Keith’s waist.

“Please,” he breathed, and Keith gave him another kiss. Then he sat up, gripped Lance under his knees, and opened him up wider.

Lance stared up at him. Invitingly, somehow defiantly, he raised his legs higher and hooked his knees over Keith’s shoulders.

That was impressive. Keith watched him with a smile, and as he swung his hips forward and bottomed out, he dug his thumbs into Lance’s thighs.

“Flexible, aren't you, pretty boy?” he growled.

Lance seized. He gasped and tightened _so hard_ around Keith's cock, so tight that it almost hurt, and emptied white onto his chest.

He came so hard that it looked _stressful_.

Keith was too stunned to move for the first couple of seconds, but then he gripped Lance’s thighs and thrust evenly into him to make sure he had all the stimulation he wanted. Lance moaned something senseless that sounded like “yeah,” and then he went slack, quivering and panting.

He blinked up at Keith. Stared. Widened his eyes. Stammered something while Keith stared back at him with what felt like a wild grin.

“Sorry, I was-- I was already so close, I just… You were so…”

“Yeah?” Keith smirked even wider. He rubbed Lance’s thighs soothingly and let him begin to recover. “You did so good, baby. You were so sweet.”

Lance smiled up at him bashfully. Where did he find the gall to look so sweet and shy, when he was laid out on their bed, covered in lube and come?

Then he spread his legs open again.

“Keep going, Keith,” he pleaded. “You’re not done yet.”

Keep going? Just so Keith could finish?

He would never fuck Lance only for his own benefit. So Keith pulled out. Lance blinked up at him in confusion, and then Keith gripped him by the hips, pulled him down to the edge of the bed, and flipped him over. Lance yelped, but as soon as he felt what Keith was doing, he adjusted and cooperated so well. He popped his hips up, exposed his perfect ass, and pressed it back against the shaft of Keith’s cock.

“Fuck, baby,” Lance choked. “Jesus Christ. Didn’t know you could handle me like this.”

“Do you like it?” Keith asked, and he let Lance grind against him. It was a nice image.

“Yes,” Lance whispered. “Fuck. You’re so hot. Please, Keith, I’ve been waiting so long.”

Keith hummed, low and thoughtful, and bowed over Lance so he could reach his cock. He stroked it for him and let Lance whine and squirm, and he kissed the back of his neck while he felt him stiffen.

“It’s okay, honey,” Keith breathed against Lance’s hair. “I’m gonna take good care of you. You were so sweet to me. Gonna be so good to you.”

He pressed forward. His cock met that perfect initial resistance of tension, and he moved carefully, watching as Lance’s rim stretched around him. Then he was inside.

He disappeared into Lance’s body, and everything was hot and sliding. Both of them moaned, and Keith could feel it when Lance’s breathing hitched. He rocked forward, moving just as gently as he had promised.

“Feel okay?” he breathed, and he rubbed the small of Lance’s back with one hand. Lance was already clamping down around him again. “Does it hurt?”

“Doesn’t hurt. You’re just _big_.” Lance moaned into the bed and struggled up onto his forearms. “Oh my god, Keith. So much better than the toys.”

“Yeah? You sure?” Keith asked with a soft laugh, and he started on a nice, steady rhythm. Lance took him so well, and Keith tried not to be swept away in the sensations of being _inside_. Tight and warm and safe. A perfect place to come.

“Yeah,” Lance panted. “Never been fucked before.”

Don’t let it get to your head. Don’t get possessive. It didn’t make Keith any more special; it just meant this had to be special for Lance. Don’t be petty.

Too late. Keith groaned so low that it was a purr.

“How does it feel?” Keith encouraged him breathlessly.

“So good. Feels full. I like--” Lance gasped when Keith tested his thrusts a little harder. “Like that, fuck--I like how tight it feels. Nice and deep.”

“Mm-hmm?” Keith slipped his hand under Lance’s belly. On his next thrust, he was surprised, gratified, and so fucking turned on when he felt the impact through Lance’s skin. “That deep?”

Lance buckled, buried his face back into the bed, and muffled a long, overwrought sound in the blankets. He turned his cheek and begged, “Harder.”

Keith obliged him. He knew he could give it, and he knew Lance could take it. He moved his hand lower, gripped Lance’s cock, and stroked him out of time with the motions of his hips.

Lance was burying his sounds in the mattress, so Keith had no choice but to grip him by the hair and pull his head up. Lance cried out and thrust himself backward _harder_ , and he whined and sobbed on each hard smack of their bodies.

“Keith, _fuck!"_

“Are you gonna come again?” Keith growled, and he savored it when Lance cried for him and tried to nod his head.

“Yeah, Keith, gonna come.”

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“ _Yours_. Yours, Keith. Love you. Love you so much.”

“I love you, Lance.” Keith sucked kisses into the back of Lance’s neck when he could manage it. He was fucking him too hard to be gentle about it. He nipped the back and tops of his shoulders while he rubbed his cock for him, and it only made Lance quake harder.

They were building up together. This was the right pace. This was right where they needed to be.

Then Lance begged him, “Keith, mate me.”

Something in him snapped.

Keith’s attention narrowed down to the best parts of Lance’s body, one at a time. His perfect, slender fingers, twisting the sheets into a mess. His gorgeous back, the dip of his waist.

His hips, raised and so well behaved, staying open and taking what Keith gave him.

The back of his neck.

Keith’s hand squeezed Lance’s swollen cock. He couldn’t help it; the sound bubbled up from deep in his rib cage, and he growled against the back of Lance’s skull.

He held him down and railed him. He listened to Lance scream--he’d never expected to give Lance this kind of catharsis--and he followed all of his instincts that chanted _mate, mate, mate_. That was what Lance wanted. That was what both of them wanted.

He cut loose. He fucked Lance hard enough to hurt both of them. Their hips would bruise, and he wanted them to. He listened to Lance sobbing, “Yes, _fuck yes yes yes,_ ” watched him _tearing_ at the sheets with his scrabbling hands, and dropped Lance’s cock entirely to scratch at his hip instead. He bowed close, panting heavily, and dragged his tongue up the back of Lance’s neck, shoulder to nape, along the ridge of his spine.

He found the best spot--one of many best spots--on Lance’s trapezius. He wrapped his lips around it in a pseudo-kiss, and then he dug his teeth in.

Lance screamed. He sounded broken, gasping and wailing, and he was _supposed_ to. Keith didn’t relent on the bite or his vicious work of carving his cock into Lance’s body, because he felt Lance going tight around him, quivering, growing hotter. His hand ducked back down to Lance’s cock in time to stroke him and feel him spill.

His mate loved this. His mate was making the most fucked-out sounds, sometimes pain and sometimes euphoria. And when Keith slammed his body forward and poured his second finish into him, making that tight, warm body even warmer, Lance whimpered and took it so gratefully.

Keith tasted blood. His teeth let go of Lance’s neck, and he knew he had to kiss it better. He had to lick at the pinpricks of injury, soothe it, make Lance know it was done out of love. Both of them were taking their air in gulps, and Keith found himself too weak to stay propped up, but he was _not_ pulling out of Lance. He refused to. So he let Lance slump down on the bed, and he followed him and rest his cheek on Lance’s shoulder.

Neither of them had the faculties to speak. Lance reached back, hand uncoordinated and searching, and he made a small noise of gratification when Keith took his fingers and laced their hands together. Their hands fell back to the surface of the bed, and Keith kissed the bite mark again. He couldn’t stop nurturing it.

“Sorry,” he finally breathed. “Didn’t mean to be so rough. Shouldn’t’ve… You okay?”

Lance let out a weak moan. His hips shifted under Keith’s, stirring the come inside him and sliding it around Keith’s spent cock.

“Don’t… Don’t you dare,” Lance huffed. “Don’t you dare apologize. Was fucking amazing. Wanna do that once a week.”

Keith snorted and laughed into Lance’s shoulder. Even if he and Lance weren’t mated, it certainly wouldn’t be for lack of trying.


End file.
